Knight Lite
by David Dracyn
Summary: When vanilla humans are gifted magical trinkets by a mysterious benefactor they put them to use...by gunning for Harry Dresden's position as Winter Knight! With his brother Thomas missing and a number of crazy amateurs trying to kill him Harry must get to the bottom of this mystery if he is to keep the mantle he never wanted to begin with!
1. Chapter 1

It was well past midnight when the _Water Beetle_ , a battered old boat that could have doubled for the one from Jaws, came to a stop at the What's Up Dock, the hastily constructed dock I had built onto Demonreach back when I first decided to actively research it. I expected my brother Thomas to step out of the hold and gracefully leap down onto the island proper with scarcely a sound. As usual, Thomas would remain unaffected by the late hour and even the sand itself would go out of its way to avoid staining his new dark shoes. Sometimes I could swear God had edited every ounce of him with a living version of Photoshop before allowing him to be born. On the other hand I was given a back up makeup person to cover over rough spots before the Almighty called it a day. Surprisingly though, Thomas didn't simply come on down to offer his usual sarcastic greeting.

I knew Thomas hadn't come down to Demonreach proper because had he touched ground I'd have felt it. My intellectus would have alerted me instantly if he had, instantly providing me with hundreds of details including just how many pebbles had been picked up on his shoes. Instead, the island was telling me that while it was indeed my brother's boat, it was not my brother at the helm. Whoever it was didn't want to step foot on the island uninvited, a smart move considering what went down the last time Demonreach had unwanted guests. Instead, they chose to stay on the deck and wait.

Standing within the underground cavern that doubled as a prison for all manner of centuries old evils, a patted the nearest glowing crystal much to the chagrin of the thing at its center.

"Looks like company. No, no don't you worry. I'll get it," I said.

After slipping into my new leather duster and retrieving my recently finished staff, I headed down to the shore. Intellectus has it's advantages with knowing exactly where everything is on the island and instantly being updated about terrain changes being one of the most useful. In almost no time flat I found myself at the shore, staring up at the dark silhouette standing on my brother's boat, and I had to fight back a snarl.

This was wrong. Not just anyone should be standing there. This person was not Thomas, was not Murph, or even Molly. And whoever it was, if he had hurt Thomas in anyway I was going to make him pay dearly. His pain would be tenfold whatever he had dealt out, his death would be…

I took a deep breath and fought back the mantle of Winter as it sought to take control. I counted slowly, reminded myself that whoever this was may simply have stolen the _Water Beetle_ from port without even run afoul of my brother, and slowly stepped forward. Before I could say anything however, the dark shape spoke.

"I come seeking thee Harry Dresden. This night we shall engage in mortal combat and the winner shall be proven worthy of the honor to called Winter Knight!" declared a thunderous voice.

"Morning," I replied.

"What?" asked the voice, a bit deflated.

"It's morning, not night. In fact it is early morning. Far too early for me to be dealing with this crap." I answered.

The silhouette huffed angrily. "Enough! I have come not to engage in wordplay wizard! I have come to slay thee, becoming the Knight of Winter in your stead, serving the beautiful, elegant, and wise Queen Mab as befits a warrior of my stature!"

At that moment the figure moved, empowered by its own speechifying, stepping into the faint moonlight. Suddenly revealed was man, a youth really, wearing what looked like some kind of outfit a few days off from being Comicon ready. His long, curly hair fell into his eyes, which might explain why his costume was made mostly of plastic and plexiglass rather than something that would actually stand a chance of helping him in a battle with a wizard. At his side was a sword, probably the only thing that looked like it wasn't a complete prop, the strange amethyst in its hilt gleaming brightly despite the poor lighting.

"Riiight," I replied. "Listen, kid, I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. Only Mab herself chooses the knight and trust me, even if you could get it by killing me, it isn't all its made out to be. I mean sure you get some decent benefits, but the severance package blows. Hard. I mean there is no way you could raise a future brood of crazed Game of Thrones fans on what you'd make with this gig."

"SILENCE!" he shouted in a pitch that had to strain the limits of his scary voice abilities. "Face me and we shall see which of us is worthy!"

I pinched the space between my furrowed brows. This kid was nuts obviously, but that weird trinket in the sword felt like it could be the real deal. Aside from that, if he had managed to do something to Thomas or even if I just wanted to get more answers out of him, I couldn't very well do it while he was aboard the Beetle. If nothing else, being out on the water would make using magic more difficult. So I only had one real option.

"Alright chuckles, let's do this. You've permission to step onto the island, just for the purposes of me kicking your teeth in before you tell me what this is all about."

As the kid prepared to land, I drew in my power, felt it flow through my staff, and waited to see what would happen. To my surprise the kid leapt down into the sandy shore like something out of an action movie and…promptly fell flat on his face. I didn't even snicker. Not a peep. Honest.

Brushing himself off the kid angrily drew his blade, the amethyst throwing off ever-shifting lights that cast odd shadows all around him. As he slashed not at me, but the empty air between us I could feel a ripple of power emanating from the blade. Instantly a purple energy bolt shot out of the blade and towards my face. I quickly flicked my left arm outwards, staff still clutched in the fist, and shouted, " _Defendarius!"_

Instantly a half dome of blue-white energy formed in front of me, the shield blocking the energy bolt with a sizzling pop and the smell of burnt ozone. The kid was rushing me, eyes gleaming, and the power of Winter was screaming at me to lash out, my return attack reducing him to smoldering bones or ice impaled flesh in a single shot.

Instead, I kicked the mantle upside its metaphorical head, sidestepped the geek's clumsy lunge, and caught his ankle with my staff sending him crashing face first to the ground once more.

Before he could regain his feet I reached for my power once more, focused in the sword, put a bit of Will into it and muttered, " _Ventas Servitus!"_ In response, a gust of wind carried the blade from where it had fallen and into my outstretched right hand.

"Okay, Lancelot. Now, let's talk about where you got the pig sticker."

Fifteen minutes later and I had the whole story and one kid with urine soaked cosplay armor. Somebody had put him up to this whole "I challenge you to a duel" business, that much was no surprise. He had been given directions, handed the sword, and was thoroughly convinced he could take me on for the glory of being the Winter Knight. Oh, and he thought he was getting an incredibly hot Sidhe girlfriend as part of the package.

Locking the kid below deck, I stared off into dark as I took the boat back out onto Lake Michigan and towards the city. Someone was handing out magical trinkets and setting teenagers in cheap costumes out after me. That same someone had known enough to guide their patsy to the _Water Beetle_ , get him to Demonreach despite the fact that it isn't on the map, and had hinted to the kid he was in a contest and thus not the only person gunning for my job.

 _Not like I even wanted the damn job, but if I'm getting let go it'll be because Mab finally fires me for being too annoying…or scatters my essence to the winds. Whichever comes first._

To be honest it wasn't even the idea of being targeted, of being hunted that bothered me. That was just like any other day that ended in 'Y' when you got down to it. No, what bothered me was the idea of a lot of loose magical weapons in the hands of vanilla humans and all the damage that could cause. Plus, there was the whole my brother being missing thing. Thomas Raith is one of the few people I can count on and trust without question, but beyond that he's my big brother. If anything had happened to him, well, let's just say I was gonna go as Medieval on the person responsible as Lancelot had thought he was.

Sighing I looked out at Chicago's sparkling skyline and steadied myself for what was to come. It was going to be a hell of a time keeping a job I hated, didn't want, and was trying to find a way to get rid of.


	2. Chapter 2

When I finally pulled into port, easing the _Water Beetle_ into its usual spot, I took a good, long look at Chicago. I had spent so much time on Demonreach lately; giving my friends and family a break from the craziness that is, well, me, that I had hardly been back to the city. Following that debacle with Hades and the Denarians, I hadn't been back. Even when Mab decided there was an errand the Winter Knight himself had to handle, it had been outside of the state. In some ways, it was like seeing an old friend after a long time, a familiar comforting feeling washing over me as I looked out over the skyline.

"Alright," I called down to Lancelot. "Stay below and stay quiet. If you move, I will know. If you try to escape, I will know. If you so much as sneeze in a way I find offensive I will know it and you will regret it."

"I-I'm a prisoner?" he asked, ready to wet himself. _Again._

"When you say it like that is sounds all…yes. You are a prisoner. For the time being. It's actually for your own safety, because the sorts of people that hand out magical trinkets and point you at the Winter Knight are not the type who care about your well being. They may take failure personally. So stay there, shut up, and let me go clean up your mess."

Without further argument, I stepped out onto the dock and headed out into Burnham Harbor, intent on heading to Thomas' place. I didn't even make it to the parking lot before I realized I was being followed. Now when I say I knew I was being followed I'm not talking about some supernatural ability, no wizard honed skill. This was more or less the result of spending a good portion of my adult life pissing off everything from those beings that go bump in the night to organized crime bosses. You don't end up making enemies like that and surviving without developing a good sense of situational awareness.

I kept walking without revealing I was aware of my less than experienced admirer, stepped quickly around the side of a large truck likely used by harbor security, and waited. Sure enough, my would-be tail rounded the side of the vehicle and tripped over my outstretched staff.

"Gotta watch your step out here. Pot holes," I said, standing as tall as I could over the fallen man.

He rolled onto his back, fear and shock in his eyes, giving me my first good look at him. A middle-aged man with a receding hairline streaked with silver he was eearing a bright blue Hawaiian shirt, sandals, and a white mustache that Magnum would have been envious of. He looked out of his element. I don't just mean squaring off against a wizard in a darkened parking lot either, the dude looked like he belonged on a sunny beach sipping margaritas in a retirement community, not in Chicago during late winter.

"So you're him huh? You the Winter Knight?" he asked.

 _Hell's Bells!_ I thought. _Was there a memo sent out I'm not aware of?_

"No. I'm the fashion police. Aloha chique is out of season. Unless you are a member of the _Beach Boys_ I'm gonna have to write you up for a violation of common sense," I replied.

"Yeah, you're him. She said you loved to hear yourself yap," the man.

 _She. Well at least we are getting somewhere._

"I resemble that remark. And for _her_ information, whoever this _she_ is, I do occasionally shut up. When I am knocked unconscious. Or die temporarily."

The guy grunted and got back to his feet. "We need to change that from temporarily to permanently."

I cocked an eyebrow at the threat and asked, "And who is this we?"

As of on cue, unearthly howls filled the night air sending shivers up my back. Glancing around I saw multiple sets of glowing, canine eyes fixed on me as if it were dinner time and I was a rare steak laid out just for them. I had seen eyes just like them plenty of times, minus the Hollywood eye glow of doom. Werewolves.

"Uh…nice doggies," said sheepishly, shaking my shield bracelet free of my duster.


	3. Chapter 3

Werewolves come in several varieties and unfortunately I had, at one time or another, encountered them in all their hairy flavors. From _lycanthropes_ channeling a rage spirit, to _hexenwolves_ and their magical trinkets that make them wolf-out, to the walking nightmares that are cursed to become _loup-garous_ I've had experience with all of 'em. Heck, some of my best friends are of the hairy persuasion, The Alphas as they were known having bled for the cause of righteousness alongside me a number of times. So it should have been no surprise when a pack of wolves, eyes glowing like road flares, came rushing from all sides.

 _Shouldn't_ have been. But it was. Oh was it ever a surprise.

When the first of the wolves leapt at me, teeth bared and intent on locking around my throat, I raised my shield bracelet and shouted " _Defendarius!"_

As usual a semicircle of energy emerged from the bracelet. As usual I braced myself to deflect the wolf's bulk. Unusually, the wolf faded right through the shield and ended up behind me where it slammed its shoulders into the back of my knees. I fell backwards, landed on my ass, and rolled to the side just in time to feel teeth from another wolf pass within a hair's breadth of sinking into my shoulder.

Regaining my feet I swung my staff like I was the second coming of Hank Aaron and whacked one of the glowy-eyed wolves across the muzzle. It fell to the side, shook it's head, and rushed at me once more.

Thrusting my hand out I uttered " _Assantius!_ "

The kinetic energy stored in my ring rushed outwards, caught the now crooked toothed wolf, and sent him flying backwards into a pair of his compatriots. Still, they were not going to be down for long and more were coming in. These wolves were faster, stronger, and could apparently teleport past my defenses. They were unpredictable and kept coming back stronger. I was not going to be able to keep up this pace for long without getting shredded.

That was when I remembered the first moron that decided he wanted to make a run at being the Winter Knight. Lancelot, hopefully still secure in his urine soaked plexiglass armor, had been given a magical trinket. The stone had turned his terribly fake sword into a very real magic blasting weapon.

 _What are the chances this is more of the same?_ I thought.

Glancing towards the luau king turned tough guy, I noticed he was clutching something on a string. From a distance it looked like a wolf-headed pendant that shared the same otherworldly glow as the eyes of the wolf-like beings attacking me.

 _Color coded for convenience,_ I thought as I channeled energy through my staff.

"VENTAS SERVITAS!" I shouted, aiming for the man's hand and object within it.

No sooner had I cast out the energy sending a powerful burst of wind that tore the pendant from his hand, than a wolf hit me square in the back. I fell, dropped my staff, and ate gravel. Blood dripped from my nose as I braced myself for the sting of canine teeth…only the expected pain never came.

Pushing myself up I swiftly retrieved my staff and spun about expecting to see the pack. Instead I found the parking lot empty of anything other than myself and the freak in the Hawaiian shirt. He was down on his knees holding the shattered remains the pendant, the stone crumbling further as he wept over it.

Making my way over to him, spitting gravel, dirt, and blood as I walked, I brought my staff up just under his chin, turning his face up towards me.

"Okay, now that the dogs have gone out for their walk, it's time you and I have a little chat," I snarled, trying to sound menacing rather than winded. "Who the hell are you and what the hell is your problem with me?"

Sniffling, honest to goodness tears streaming down his face, he looked up at me like a toddler just told he had to go to time out.

"My name is Carl. Carl Jacobs. I just, I just wanted…" he sobbed.

Rolling my eyes I reached down and yanked him back to his feet. Carl, like the punk kid, had no idea what he was really involved with. Nobody in the know would have given their name freely like that, let alone relied on a mere bauble to get the job done against a full-fledged wizard like myself.

"You just wanted what?" I demanded.

Eyes wide as saucers he looked up at me and said, "To make her happy."

 _Her again. It's always a her. You do have a way with the ladies Harry,_ I thought. Granted I thought it in Bob the Skull's voice, but that in no way meant I was missing him.

"Okay, who is she?"

"The most beautiful, most perfect being to ever walk the face of this planet!" he shrieked as if I should already be privy to this information. "The Lady. She says you are unworthy of being the Winter Knight, that you mistreat all those of the Court as you abuse your power and position! I just wanted to save her!"

 _That definitely sounds like your predecessor,_ I thought, trying hard not to remember Lloyd Slate as he was when last I saw him. When I…

Shaking the thoughts from my head lest I start down a bad road, I turned to Carl and asked, "Where can I find her?"


	4. Chapter 4

Standing in front of Graceland Cemetery I had to work to suppress a shiver that started at my neck and ran down to the base of my spine. It wasn't the cold, something I was becoming more accustomed to as Winter Knight, but something more psychological. Cemeteries in general are unsettling, especially at night, and even more so when you are in my line of work. Places where the dead lay and things that you wish were dead play are just uncomfortable on the best of days. Chicago's famed Graceland Cemetery however was particularly bothersome to me. Whether it was late night meetings where I was being blackmailed by a vampire sorceress, hanging out as an actual ghost, or being shown my grave and its dark, yet accurate, epitaph you could say that I had history with the place.

 _Bad_ history.

If what Carl had told me was true, and based on his begging me not to turn him into something small and squirmy I had no reason to think he was lying, I was about to add to the already long list of bad experiences with the place. According to the overly zealous and terribly dressed Mr. Jacobs, whoever the mysterious benefactor was handing out Bad Mojo Swag Bags was waiting within the cemetery for him to report back about my demise. Evidently whoever the illustrious _she_ was thought that an amulet that summoned ectoplasmic wolf constructs from the Nevernever would be enough to take me out. I didn't know whether to be incredibly insulted or very worried. Usually the only people arrogant enough to go up against a wizard with my reputation, let alone the Winter Knight, were incredibly green…or were the heaviest of heavy hitters.

With my luck it was probably the later.

 _I swear if Nicodemus is in there with a sex change I am so resigning. Moving to Florida with the Carls of the world and living out a nice and quiet life of contemplation and magical study just like every good little wizard before me._

Swallowing hard, knowing that statement was a boldfaced lie even if I wasn't bound to Mab and the Winter Court, I clutched my staff and marched through the strangely open front gates like I owned the place. I didn't, but hey in my mind my empty grave within at least gave me renter's rights.

Walking through I knew exactly where to go. It wasn't some kind of magical sense, no wizard's intuition, or anything of the like. No, it was because I knew the Black Hat types far too well and most of them, even the really bad ones, shared a flair for the theatrical. My hunch proved correct. As I neared the site of my grave, the moonlight illuminating the 'Here Lies Harry Dresden, He Died Doing the Right Thing' epitaph, I found a cloaked figure kneeling in front of it, manicured fingers tracing the outline of the pentacle set in the headstone.

"You know, fondling a man's grave is generally considered bad decorum without at least buying him dinner first," I declared.

The hooded woman was startled, jumping a bit at the sound of my voice and revealing the high-heeled boots she wore beneath her Sith Lord wannabe getup. Whoever she was she didn't let her momentary lapse of composure last long, opting to straighten out her robes before slowly, dramatically rising.

"So, I see the others have failed to handle you. Looks like you are a bigger bad than we were told," she said as if she had rehearsed that line in a mirror several hundred times.

I snorted. "Bigger bad? Seriously? Who talks like that? What are you, twelve?"

Spinning on her heels so fast she almost fell over, the faced me looking for all the world like there was a witty rejoinder on the tip of her tongue, but unable to escape as she struggled to undo the clasp on her cloak. For a few agonizing moments she fought with it before finally opting to pull it over her head and discard it…carefully over my headstone.

Getting my first real look at her I was simultaneously fighting the urge to sigh and laugh. The almost sighing bit came from the fact that this woman, pleasantly plump without being terribly obese, wig out of place from her battle with the cloak, and clothes inappropriate not only for the weather but for a woman her age, was clearly not the being responsible for tonight's shenanigans. Wanting to laugh however was because it finally clicked in my brain where I had seen her look before.

Leather pants that looked like they'd split if she moved her leg to high? Check.

Fashionable jacket that was far too thin for the cold weather? Check again.

Pointy wooden stake prop courtesy of _Hot Topic_? Big freaking check.

As she gripped her "weapon" as if she were going to impale me that very moment I finally lost the battle. Tears welled in my and one hand clutched my gut as I laughed long and hard, the sound echoing throughout the graveyard. Breathing heavily I rubbed my eyes, glanced back up at her, and the guffaws started all over again.

Sure it was unprofessional and perhaps even a little rude, but c'mon! You try going up against super-ghouls and entities from beyond the outer gates and not laugh when an out of shape, aged cosplay fanatic threatens you in full garb.

"Okay," I said when I was able to breath normally again. "I guess this begs the question: WWBD? What Would Buff- -"

What she did was smile as she knocked me flat on my ass with what should have been little more than a love tap, thorn covered vines erupting from the ground and ensnaring me like a cow at the rodeo.

 _You just had to freaking ask, didn't you?_ I thought, my vision swimming with stars.


	5. Chapter 5

When my head ceased to sound like a marching band was practicing between my ears, I risked opening my eyes despite the growing sense of nausea.

 _Oh that's great Dresden. What is this, your fiftieth concussion? Start taking bets on how many shots to the head you take and you'll never have to worry about working a case again. You'll be rolling in it._

"Oh my dear, sweet, stupid Winter Night, you are certainly rolling in something," came a melodic voice.

 _Holy shit! She read my mind!_

"What is it the kids say these days? Duh?" came my reply.

Struggling to turn my head, my neck secured by the same barbed vines I saw before being KO'ed by the world's worst cosplayer, took in my surroundings. I was still in the cemetery which was good in it's own way. Sure it was a place where people were laid to rest, and yes there was a ready made grave already waiting for me not but a few scant steps away, but it was better than waking up in completely unfamiliar surroundings with someone mucking around with mental magic. Trust me.

"So, whoever is behind this saved the biggest gift for you huh?" I asked my captor.

I received only a slow clicking of a tongue as a reply, a _tsk tsk,_ sound you'd expect from a disapproving teacher or parental figure.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the woman who had so easily bypassed all my defenses spoke again, a bit of an accent that wasn't present before creeping into her chiding tone, "Oh they so were not kidding when they said you were dense."

"I do have a reputation to uphold," I muttered, already testing my restraints. They were tight and the thorns didn't exactly tickle, but I had been tied down by worse. And before you get any ideas, no _Not_ like that. It's just that compared to certain magic suppressing manacles, the vines were not overly impressive.

"Haven't figured it out yet?" she asked, stepping out where I could see her once more.

Gone was the wig, the Slayer wannabe gear, and any reason I had previously to laugh. Sure the woman was still nothing to write home about, but there was something about the way she moved, graceful despite her size and the previous act she had put on that told me the truth.

"You are a Sidhe," I said. "A Sidhe without a stylist and a love for fast food?"

"Quips. Always the quips. But this is no laughing matter wizard or do you need another lesson in what happens when you laugh at your betters?"

 _Don't say it, don't say it, don't…_

"I always was a slow learner," I said, snickering a little. "Sorry, but of all the glamours your people can pull off and you decide to go for.."

Whatever I was going to say was cut off by the tightening of the vines around my throat. In an instant she cleared the distance between us and was staring into my eyes, hand on my chin as if that somehow forced me to gaze at her any more than the vines did. She glowered at me, eyes gone from dull brown to amber and slitted, feline like in shape.

"You dull witted, mortal charlatan! You think this is glamour? You think this is choice? What Sidhe would ever stoop to-to this? I am cursed to wretched human! Forced to be this monstrosity because of your mistress!" she spat.

 _Also cursed with halitosis,_ I thought with a flinch. Luckily, she seemed so enraged she didn't pick up on that thought.

"Okay, so you are a cursed Sidhe. Gotcha. And based on what I know your kind it took someone with some major juice to force you into this…" I paused considering my words, "Uh…lesser form."

Arms crossed, foot tapping she looked about ready to tear the flesh from my bones and so I kept talking, hoping to distract her from any such notions.

"And by mistress, a term I resent by the way since it was only that one time and it was not like it counted for anything more than a transfer of the mantle, I suppose you mean Mab? So Queen Mab cursed you and you are taking it out on me, handing out baubles and having losers jump me because…why?"

Snorting she shook her head. "No fool, it was merely a ploy to get you off that damnable little fortress island of yours. I knew you would not step forth lest you had a reason."

"Oh. Great. Awesome so you go after Thomas, arrange amateur hour just to get me here. So now what? I mean I can reverse curses, I can do a heck of a lot, but this is Mab we are talking about. _THE_ Mab. Queen of the Winter Court. I can't hold a candle to her. And you know it. There is no way I can break the curse," I told her truthfully.

"First don't fool yourself wizard. This was never about the vampire's well-being, which of course does hang in the balance based upon the choices soon coming your way. This was because your position was challenged. No matter how small the threat, the mantle is yours and yours alone. It has altered you, made you crave it, guard it, fear losing it," she cooed.

I tried to tell myself she was wrong, tried to convince myself that Thomas was my brother and possibly in danger and that was why I have decided to challenge the idiot squad, but I couldn't fully convince myself. The pull of the mantle was strong and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the trump card it sometimes gave me.

Smiling wider once she knew she had gotten to me, she continued. "Second, the curse cannot be reversed, cannot be broken, not even by a wizard such as yourself. Were that easy I could do it myself or get one of the countless beings who owe me a debt to do the deed. No wizard, it cannot be broken, but the curse? It can die."

My eyes went wide and my jaw, despite being grasped, dropped open wide.

"You can't seriously be asking me to.."

She chortled loudly, the sound both grating and melodic at once."You are the Winter Knight, poor choice though you are. You have the ear of the Queen and a portion of her power flows through you. And I am not asking, I am _telling_ you. If you want to see the vampire alive again, if you want to continue living, and if you want all the many others I have shared power with this evening to continue chugging along this mortal coil, you are going to kill Mab."


End file.
